Moving Out
by Matroushka
Summary: Harry and Ron suffer the trials and tribulations of flat hunting. Slash.


**Moving Out**

-----

Excerpt from:_ 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Rules, Regulations and Code of Conduct for Aurors.'_

**Section II, subsection (vii), paragraph (a):** All trainee Aurors will be required to reside in the Auror Section House for the first twelve (12) months of their training. At the end of this period they may, with the permission of the Supervising Auror, seek alternate accommodation, subject to the provisions of subsection (viii) below.

-----

"Well," Harry said thoughtfully as he scanned the listing of new vacancies that he'd picked up from the estate agent's office that morning. "What about this one? Ground floor flat available now, one double bedroom, large bathroom, living room, study, large kitchen and scullery. Fully furnished. Own Floo connection. Newly decorated. Three hundred Galleons a month."

"Still a bit pricey. Where is it?"

"Cordy Alley. It's in a small residential area at the far end of Diagon Alley, according to the little map they've provided."

"Oh, right. I know where that is. It's nice around there. Still, three hundred Galleons is a hell of a lot of money, Harry."

"But it's only one hundred and fifty Galleons each. And heating, lighting and hot water is included in the rent."

"I suppose that's not too bad," Ron said slowly.

"Want to take a look at it, then?"

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Ron was slumped forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his chin cupped in his hands. He looked miserable as he glared at the 'Property To Let' section of The _Daily_ _Prophet_.

"We'll find somewhere soon," Harry said. "I know we've not had a lot of luck, lately, but there's got to be something out there. We just need to keep looking."

Ron snorted. "Anywhere half-way decent is too expensive, and anything we can afford is a bloody dump."

Harry sighed. "Look, I've still got some money in my vault. We could -"

"No," Ron snapped out. "I've told you. I'm not a bloody charity case. I pay my way."

"I know, I know. It was just a suggestion. So do you want to see this place?"

Ron nodded, so Harry put a neat cross in the box labelled, 'Request a Viewing', and a moment later the address of the flat and list of available viewing times appeared in flowing script underneath it.

"We can have a look this afternoon. They've got a one o' clock appointment, here."

"Harry, we don't finish until five."

"Yeah, but we haven't had a lunch break yet, and Robards did say that he'd give the trainees time off to look at places." Harry pushed himself to his feet. "I'll go and ask him now, hang on."

Harry edged himself out of the tiny cubicle he and Ron were crammed into and made his way to the Chief Auror's office. He knocked on the door, and a moment later it swung open.

"Potter. What do you want now?"

"Sir," Harry said with a nod. "I wondered if Auror Weasley and I could take an extra half an hour or so for lunch. There's a flat we want to take a look at and I don't know how long -"

"Fine, fine," Robards said. "But get back as soon as you can, and make sure all your reports are finished and on my desk before you even think of leaving tonight. Got that? Now bugger off, I'm busy."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, jumping sharply out of the office as the door slammed shut in his face.

-----

"Here we are. Number thirteen, Cordy Ally."

"Looks nice," Ron said. "Didn't realise it was a house, though."

"Probably just the two flats, then. But that's better, isn't it? Not too many nosy neighbours?"

"Just an observation," Ron said with a grin. "Now, who are we supposed to be meeting?"

"It's the owner's daughter. A Mrs. Exedra Wainscott."

There wasn't a soul in sight, however. Harry glanced at his watch repeatedly as Ron shuffled his feet impatiently.

"Maybe she's waiting inside?" Ron suggested after a few minutes. "I reckon we should knock. We don't have that much time."

"Good point," Harry said, pushing open the front gate. They'd just reached the front door when it flew open. A thin, middle-aged woman with faded blonde hair and watery blue eyes stood in the doorway, staring at them in abject horror.

"Oh, no. Not again," she said. "I'm so sorry. My father's just a little eccentric, that's all. He's perfectly harmless, despite what that nosy harridan next door says. I mean, it's not as though she was hurt or anything, and Dad apologised and -"

"Mrs. Wainscott?"

"Yes, yes, I'm Mrs. Wainscott," the woman said distractedly. "I suppose you'd better come in. Dad's upstairs." Despite her words, however, she didn't move from the doorway. Instead she craned her neck, peering up and down the street. "This couldn't have happened at a worse time. I'm supposed to be meeting some prospective tenants for the ground floor flat. It's hard enough to get tenants, what with Dad's peculiarities, but if they see Aurors here they won't even look at the place and -"

"Mrs. Wainscott!" Harry said loudly, cutting the babbling woman off mid-flow. "There appears to have been a misunderstanding. I'm Harry Potter, and this is Ron Weasley. We've come to look at the flat."

Mrs. Wainscott's mouth dropped open as her face grew pale. Suddenly, her eyes rolled back in her head, and with a little gasp she dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh, shit," Ron said as he dived forward. He dropped to his knees next to the unconscious woman and quickly checked her over.

Harry took the opportunity to look around. They were in a small, neat entrance hall. The door directly to Harry's right was open, and he saw a flight of stairs leading up, presumably to the upstairs flat. Which meant that the door on the left was for the ground floor flat they'd come to see. He gave it an experimental shove, but it was firmly locked.

"Looks like she just fainted," Ron said after a moment. "Should be safe to move her." He picked her up carefully, cradling her in his arms, and Harry led the way upstairs.

"Hello?" he called out. "Anybody home?"

A head appeared over the top banister rail. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Your daughter fainted, sir. My colleague is bringing her up," Harry said as he reached the top landing. "Where can we put her?"

"Better put her in here," the old man said as he shuffled off, and Harry and Ron followed him through into a small, overcrowded bedroom.

"She always was high-strung," the old man said as Ron carefully laid his burden on the bed. "Bundle of nerves. Takes fright at the slightest thing."

"Reckon it's okay to wake her up?" Ron asked. At Harry's nod, Ron's wand slipped into his hand, and a moment later Exedra Wainscott opened her eyes. She blinked and stared at her father in confusion.

"Dad? I had the oddest dream. Harry Potter came to the door. Harry Potter himself!"

Ron sniggered, and Harry elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"You just lie there and don't work yourself up again," her father replied. He pulled out the oldest, most gnarled wand Harry had ever seen in his life and waved it. "Here," he said, indicating the cup of tea that had appeared on the bedside table. "Get this into you. You'll feel better after that. I just need to have a word with these lads, here."

The old man shooed them out into the hallway, closing the bedroom door firmly on his daughter's faint protests. He pulled a pair of glasses out of his pocket, put them on, then peered myopically at the two Aurors.

"So, which one of you is Harry Potter, then?"

Ron and Harry shared an incredulous glance, and Harry could see that Ron was biting his lip hard, trying not to laugh.

"That would be me, sir," Harry said after a moment. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"You don't?" The old man looked surprised. "Can't be an official visit then. Ballspout's the name. Archimedes Ballspout, at your service," the man said with a nod. "And who's this with you?"

"That's Ron Weasley, my partner."

"Nice to meet you. Now, what can I do for you, lads?"

"Actually, we came to look at the downstairs flat. Your daughter was going to show us around. We don't have much time, though, as we have to get back to work."

Archimedes nodded. He stared thoughtfully at Harry for a moment, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He held them out to Harry, saying, "Here you are. I'm sure you can find your way around without Exedra holding your hand. Well, go on then, what are you waiting for?"

"Er, right. Thanks," Harry said. "Um, we'll be back in a few minutes, then." He grabbed Ron and headed downstairs.

"Bloody hell," Ron chuckled. "His eyesight must be worse than yours, mate. I mean, do I look like a skinny runt with bad hair and a hero complex?"

"Planning to spend the rest of your nights on the couch, are you?" Harry shot back as he unlocked the door.

"Like that's going to happen," Ron scoffed as they stepping into the tiny entrance hall. "Randy git you are. Waggle my arse at you and you'd be on your knees, begging me to come back to bed."

"You're the one who'd be begging to come," Harry said with a smirk.

The flat was perfect. The living room was cosy, with a large, comfortable couch and two squashy armchairs arranged around a large, open fireplace. The room had been freshly painted, and the furniture, carpet and curtains were spotlessly clean and looked almost brand new. The desk in the study was large enough for them both to use, and there was plenty of shelf space for their books. The kitchen was neat and clean, with a good-sized table and six chairs set at one end, and the scullery was big enough to hose a dragon down in. The bedroom had plenty of wardrobe space, and an enormous bed that caused Harry's eyes to light up in anticipation. But what really clinched the deal was the bathroom. Opulent was the only word that really did it justice.

"Oh, yes," Ron said reverently as he stood behind Harry and stared at the bathtub. It was enormous, with half a dozen highly polished gold taps neatly clustered at one end. He sidled past Harry and made a beeline to the taps. "Scented oil, Harry. One of these is for scented fucking oil." He turned to Harry, a broad smile on his face. "We have got to have this place. Can you imagine it? Relaxing in this after a hard day. Just you and me in a giant bath full of warm soapy water with a scented oil dispenser within easy reach?"

Harry swallowed hard against a suddenly dry throat. "Fuck, Ron. Don't say things like that when we still have to go back to work."

Ron winked and grinned mischievously. "Give you something to look forward to," he said. "But yeah, we do have to get back. So we'd better give the keys back and tell them that we want to rent the place."

"Just hold on a minute, mate. Let's not get carried away. Yeah, the flat's perfect. In fact, it's brilliant. But remember what happened when we first got here? And look at this place. We've looked at enough flats now to know roughly how much rent they go for, and this place should be at least another hundred Galleons a month, easy."

Ron sighed explosively. "Buggering hell, I knew you'd do that. Right. It's obviously cheap because of the old man, yeah? His daughter thought we'd come officially, didn't she, because of a complaint. Fair enough. But how bad could he be, I mean, really? He looks harmless enough. Hardly likely to be an axe murderer or another Dark Lord now, is he? Probably forgets to put his trousers on when he goes out or something, that's all. Him wandering around the place with his todger hanging out isn't exactly going worry us now, is it?"

Harry shook his head. "We're Aurors, Ron. You know we have to report where we're living, and if there's anything even vaguely iffy associated with the address, at all, then we won't be allowed to stay. It's in the regulations. We'll need to talk to Mrs. Wainscott and get the full story out of her."

Ron gave a reluctant nod, muttering under his breath as Harry locked up the flat.

-----

They sat patiently at the kitchen table while a somewhat flustered Exedra Wainscott bustled about making tea.

"Dad'll be here in a minute," she said as she placed the teapot on the table. "He's...busy for a moment." She gave a delicate shudder, and began pouring out cups of tea. Harry glanced quickly at Ron, who gave a tiny nod to show that he'd noticed the odd behaviour, too.

"So, which one of you is interested in the flat?"

"Both of us. We're looking for somewhere together," Ron said as he spooned sugar into his cup.

"Oh! But there's only one bedroom. I suppose we could put the bed into storage and replace it with two single beds."

"No need," Ron said cheerfully as he stirred his tea and dropped the teaspoon onto the saucer with a loud clatter. "We sleep together, so the bed's fine."

Mrs. Wainscott made an odd, strangled sort of sound as her hand flew to her chest. Her eyes widened as she stared at Ron.

"Is that a problem," Harry said tersely. "Because if it is then there's no point in discussing this further."

"I, er... I mean..."

"'course it's not a problem, lad."

Harry's head shot around. Archimedes stood in the doorway, staring at his daughter, a look of disappointment on his face.

"Oh, no, no, of course not," the jittery woman squeaked out.

Archimedes shook his head as he made his way over to the table. "Thought I'd raised you better than that," he muttered to her as he sat down. A flush rose to her face as she poured him a cup of tea.

"So, you going to take the place? You won't find better at the price."

Ron opened his mouth, but Harry quelled him with a look and he snapped it shut, a disgruntled look on his face.

"Well, actually, that's something we need to talk to you about. The flat is very cheap, Mr. Ballspout. Far cheaper than it should be. And when we first arrived to look at it, your daughter seemed to think that we were here officially. Now, I know -"

He was cut off by a harsh bark of laughter from the old man. He turned to his daughter and said, "Dropped the rent again, did you?"

"I had to!" she snapped out. "I hoped it'd be cheap enough that the new tenants would overlook it if one of those - those things escaped again." She turned to face her father. "You need the money, Dad. Last time I went to your vault it was nearly empty. You spend all your money on those things. How are you going to live?"

Harry could clearly see tears in the woman's eyes, and he shared a wary glance with Ron, who looked equally uncomfortable.

"Oh, love." The old man's voice softened and he patted his daughter's hand. "You've been worrying yourself over me again. And you shouldn't. I told you. I manage well enough. I only keep the housekeeping money in that vault. I have a separate vault for the business. I'm not saying that a few Galleons extra wouldn't go amiss. I could do with some new supplies, but I'm not on my uppers, girl, not by a long chalk." He squeezed her hand. "You're a good girl, Exie. Your mum'd be proud of you. Now, you've had a rough day, love. Why don't you get off home and put your feet up for a bit. I can see to these lads. They're Aurors, after all, so I doubt they'll rob me."

Mrs. Wainscott nodded as she fumbled for a handkerchief. She mopped her eyes and blew her nose, and shot an embarrassed look at Harry and Ron, who both pretended to be wildly fascinated with the view out of the kitchen window.

"I am feeling a bit tired, Dad," she muttered softly.

"Won't be a minute, lads. Drink your tea," Archimedes said as he helped his daughter into her coat. He ushered her carefully out of the kitchen, and Harry could hear him still reassuring her as he saw her out.

"She hoped the new tenants would overlook it if one of the things escaped?" Ron hissed urgently. "What the hell is he keeping here?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Harry said as the kitchen door opened again.

"Mr. Ballspout -"

"Call me Archie, lad. And you're Harry and Ron, right? Now, I've got a question for you. Do you like the flat?"

"Well, yes. But -"

"Both of you?"

Ron nodded cautiously. "It's brilliant, but -"

"Happy with the rent? Three hundred Galleons a month, Exie said."

"Well, yes," Harry said again. "It's very reasonable. But -"

"Right, then. It's yours. Move in whenever you like. I'll give you my vault number and you can transfer the rent straight in there on the first of every month. Being who you are, I doubt I'll be needing a deposit."

Harry took a deep breath. "Mr. Ballspout."

"I told you, call me Archie," the old man said with a grin. "Now, I imagine you want to know what Exie was talking about, right? Funnily enough, I reckon you're one of the few people that won't have any problems with them, if the gossip I've heard about you is right. C'mon, the pair of you. I want to show you what's scared away my tenants and caused most of the neighbours to run a mile rather than come anywhere near me."

"It had better not be spiders," Ron muttered to Harry as they followed Archimedes out onto the landing. "If it's spiders, I don't care how cheap the place is. We're not staying."

Archimedes pushed open a door, and Ron and Harry followed him cautiously into the room. Harry couldn't help laughing as he looked around.

"Definitely not spiders," he said softly to Ron, who glared at him.

"As you can see, I'm a magical herpetologist. Make a tidy profit from selling venom, eggs and skins for potions. Of course, the only problem with keeping and breeding magical snakes is that they're more intelligent than your common or garden snake, and they find it amusing to escape and go exploring. They get bored, I think. They never go far. Know where they're well off, I reckon. I won't kill them for ingredients, you see. They live out their lives here quite happily."

"You mean they've turned up in the downstairs flat?" Ron asked as he looked around nervously.

"Among other places," Archimedes said with a grin. "I think they enjoy scaring off my tenants. Little buggers."

Harry shook his head as he looked around. There were several conversations going on in the large tanks arranged around the room, and the snakes seemed to be paying no attention to their visitors at all. He wandered over to one vivarium that held a small, bright green snake.

"Aren't you pretty," Harry said as he crouched down so the snake was at eye level.

"Of course I am. Who are you?"

Harry hadn't been chatting very long before Archie was at his side, almost bouncing on the spot with excitement.

"This is wonderful," he said. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. What are you saying to him?"

Harry turned to face Archie and said, "Just saying hello. He asked who I was, and I told him I was moving into the flat downstairs."

"I didn't realise Parseltongue was so complex a language," Archie said, with the air of a man who was settling down for a long conversation.

"It's not, actually. Things don't translate well, sometimes. They don't understand a lot of human concepts, and have no words for things like tenants or renting. What I said actually translates as something like: we're adopted nest-mates of the foodbringer."

Archibald shook his head in wonder. "I envy you, young man. To be able to speak to them. Oh, I wish I could talk to them. There's so much they could tell me."

"I could translate for you, if you want," Harry offered.

"But not now, mate," Ron said quickly. "Time's getting on, and Robards will skin us alive if we don't finish those reports today."

Harry straightened up. "Yeah. We should get going."

Archibald's face fell, but he rallied quickly, reached into his pocket and pulled out two sets of keys. He handed one set to Ron, and the other to Harry, saying, "Now, once you've settled in, I hope you'll drop in for a visit and a chat."

"Of course," Harry said, knowing full well who he'd be expected to chat with, and not minding one bit. It was nice to find someone who actually envied his ability to speak to snakes, instead of fearing it.

"You can count on it," Ron said with a smile as he shoved the set of keys into his pocket.

-----

"Snakes," Ron said, shaking his head as they made their way to the Apparition point. "Who would have guessed?"

"Not us, obviously. Archie running around exposing himself was our best theory. Some Aurors we are, eh?"

"What are you on about? We're amazing, mate. Just scored ourselves a brilliant flat at a bargain price, with a landlord who thinks the sun shines out of your arse, and who'd probably pay you to stay."

Harry chuckled. "You know what? You're right. Just think. No more listening to everyone else snoring through those paper-thin walls."

"Or falling out of those stupid little beds when things are just getting interesting."

"No more queuing up in the freezing cold for a two minute, lukewarm shower."

Ron sighed happily. "Oh, yeah. I think I'm in love with that bathroom. I've got plans for me, your arse and that scented oil," Ron said as he waggled his eyebrows.

Harry snorted, and after a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, slipped an arm around Ron's back and pinched his arse.

"Oy, cheeky, conduct unbecoming while in uniform, that is. Robards'll tear us a new one," Ron said. Then he reached out suddenly, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him into a searing kiss.

"Bloody hell, Ron!" Harry stammered out a few moments later as he looked around in a panic.

"Don't worry, there's no one around. I checked," Ron said a grin as they resumed walking. "But it'll be brilliant, won't it? No more sneaking around trying to get some time alone. Creeping out of your bed at the crack of dawn so nobody sees. I can't wait. Our own place."

"You're right. That does sound brilliant. We're finally doing it, Ron. We're moving out."

-----

The end.

Written for the Moving Out challenge on Insane Journal


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